Lion Head Mesa because of you

"well ah ain't no wolf--!" he clamped his mouth shut, suddenly aware that that might be a bad thing to admit to an apex predator.

expect that, in his mind, apex predators didn't possess such a pleasant laugh, nor a good sense of humour.

"...um, ah mean." his head bent and he gave an awkward laugh. "ahm a kind o' wolf, ah guess. a dog, that is. so we're practically cousins." he hoped pointing out this evolutionarily relation would discourage the larger animal from eating him.

wishing to quickly switch the conversation from what could end up as a debate about his edibility, he confirmed with a shake of his head that he wasn't lost. "n-naw, missus tavina knows ahm out 'ere." it was a lie, but the sesh had good standing in akashingo and namedropping her might assure his safety.

"oh! maggie?" the chihuahua drawled. "very nice name. mine's gucci." he gave a wag of his curved tail. "ahm what they call a neb within' the mesa, which basically means ahm a layabout by profession. what's your role in akashingo?"